


Leaves Of October

by Elinie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elinie/pseuds/Elinie
Summary: They met seven years ago. The post-war Wizarding Community was still shaking with the aftereffects of Voldemort’s tyranny as if afraid to crawl out of the darkness and face the sun. She laughed that time and told him that everyone was terrified of his sins far more than the Lord’s ideology. After all, there were no saints in any war. He scolded but made no comment. He was trying to make amends with his past; he didn’t care about some long-forgotten visitors from bygone life. He sent her away but she returned the next day, nearly begging him for help.





	1. Chapter 1

The smoke is whirling away from a red-bricked chimney of this small house with two bedrooms, one cozy kitchen, attic, basement, wooden terrace, potions lab and, of course, herbs garden.

The house is situated in some charming and sleepy village on the far-coast of Ireland and washed with the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. It is quiet here. A rather head-down kind of life.

He never asked for unnecessary attention, after all. So, he might be rather happy here if he ever wondered about what happiness truly means. He lights his cigarette and watches heather waves withering just across the field. It is beautiful here.

Especially in autumn. When leaves start turning from green to gold, he remembers her, this remarkable woman he always associates with this melancholic and stunning time of the season. The season when his longing grows deeper with every passing year and engraves into his heart with each Indian summer.

They met seven years ago. The post-war Wizarding Community was still shaking with the aftereffects of Voldemort’s tyranny as if afraid to crawl out of the darkness and face the sun. She laughed that time and told him that everyone was terrified of his sins far more than the Lord’s ideology. After all, there were no saints in any war. He scolded but made no comment. He was trying to make amends with his past; he didn’t care about some long-forgotten visitors from bygone life. He sent her away but she returned the next day, nearly begging him for help.

Hermione Granger begging? His snide comment hung between them unheard by both parties.

She sank into the chair near his fireplace and told him everything about her miserable life. The epidemic started right after the last Death Eater was closed in Azkaban as if some mysterious trigger was anchored to their imprisonment. All remaining purebloods started suffering from some unknown malady without any cure. They withered like autumn leaves as if life itself had been sucked from them within a year and no one knew what to do. When her husband fell ill she read every book she managed to find, asked every Healer and traveled every magical community on her way. Everything seemed lost and hopeless, so finally she decided to approach the last of Death Eaters known to her: she came to see Snape.

He listened carefully without further commenting. He didn’t know either about some malicious curse attached to the Dark Mark as a farewell gift from the Lord or about Wizarding maladies apart from the infamous Dragon Pox.

Something in her tone made him want to help – the feeling foreign to him, especially after all these years, to help without preliminary commands or life-bonds or Unbreakable Vows, just help for the sake of helping. To lend a hand to the woman broken in her distress.

“Do you love him?” he blurted the first silly question, popped into his mind.

“Are you asking whether I love my own husband?” she muttered in disbelief.

“Miss Granger… Hermione, I shouldn’t have…”

“Stop, please. It’s just that I don’t know anymore”

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“I believed in my own fairytales, you know, though they appeared to be rather dark ones. I have been clinging to the thought that we would find our happy-ending after the Final Battle, his family would accept me as its own and I would become Mrs. Weasley at the end. Funny, but I hoped for my own cheesy-romance without realizing the fact I didn’t need one. Ron was too busy with his Quidditch achievements, I fought with ministry clerks, and we didn’t seem to be rather interested in each other anymore, you know. I wanted to ask him for a divorce, but he fell ill. I fought as hard as I could but Ron wasn’t interested in my attempts, somehow he convinced himself that he was going to die so he paid me no attention. As if he ever…. He completely lost himself in his sport activities, he began drinking his fortune away and one remarkable night I caught him in the company of some blonde-haired tart. So, the situation went tits up,” she explained while laughing bitterly.

He raised one eyebrow at her bad mannerism.

“But you kept fighting”

“So I did”

“Why?”

“I wanted to save his sorry arse and to tell him to get out of my life! And, besides, he’s been my friend for bloody fourteen years, that thing keeps people responsible!”

“I don’t recall you being this rude before, Miss Granger”

“Curse-breaking makes people tough, sir”

“You’ve become a curse-breaker?”

“Obviously”

“And you’ve come to me”

“You are my last hope, Severus”

“As if in good old times, Hermione” he replied emphasizing the last word.

If being asked about their relationship, he wouldn’t be able to answer properly. He didn’t know what they were. Strangers? Acquaintances? Friends? He feared that last word.

“He’s an idiot, this husband of yours, always was and always will be”

“Are you taking my side?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He never cherished you; he just took you for granted. Potter, at least, valued your friendship, and as far as I gathered from your letters, he just accepted you as you are, as a person and not some war trophy longing to be bragged about!”

She just shook her head, unbelievingly. Her former teacher finally noticed her!

“Will you help me?”

“I will and you know about it… Hermione”

So he did.

He willingly provided his blood and a sample of his Dark-marked skin for a necessary analysis and after that, she left to save the life of her ungrateful husband.

He secretly considered her his friend. After all, she testified for him in Wizengamot, she convinced the Minister to pardon him, she wrote him letters asking his advice about the Dark Arts and she simply graced him with her distant presence when no one else ever did.

It was a chilly and foggy October afternoon when she knocked on his door and appeared in his doorway crying her heart out. Snape knew immediately that this battle of hers had been lost.

“Hermione?”

“I saved the world, you know, the malady had nothing to do with the Dark Mark, it appeared that the Wizarding community became too overstressed after the Battle and its immune system weakened, as a result, there were the epidemics, - she blurted in one sentence and added brokenly, - I didn’t save his sorry arse”

Snape stepped aside and let her inside his home.

Crunched October leaves fell on his doorstep.

~The End Of The First Chapter~


	2. Chapter 2

That October night was cold. A chill wind was blowing through the cracks in the windows frames, whistling some mysterious song and making strange sounds. Sometimes she wondered why hadn’t he patched the cracks up, but always hesitated to ask properly. Deep in her heart, she was still a bit afraid of him, that snarky professor of hers once upon a time, and now the one she desperately wanted to call a friend. Friends with liberties. Hermione giggled and called herself “Stupid and naïve little fool”

“What’s so funny?” Snape demanded to know while making tea near the stove.

Hermione spent a week in his house admiring Irish nature and silent surroundings. She got tired from her work though she loved it to no end, from time to time she missed quiet and far from curious intruders Slytherin dungeons, where she used to come during her first years of friendship with Snape. She, indeed, needed to finish her NEWTs before becoming a curse-breaker, and for this purpose, she needed a good mentor of Defense Against The Dark Arts and some well-known Potions Master. Luckily to her, Snape having been made to face the sober reality of post-Lord Britain accepted both positions and agreed to mentor the students willing to continue their further education. So, she became his student.

In daytime, she wrote essays, made researches in ancient books about Dark Arts no longer forbidden, and just annoyed him to no end, but in the evening she left for Gringotts where she was having her additional studies for a future career of a Course-breaker. Snape was skeptical but kept his comments to himself, when one night she came to his quarters complaining about some dark variety of Cruciatus she wasn’t familiar with before.

“I don’t understand!” she huffed annoyingly, “My mentor, Bill Weasley, hit me with the curse and sent me home to find the nature and the cure against it myself!”

“What inquisitorial manners!” Snape commented while fussing over her, “Will you please lay down here and try to calm down?”

“I don’t want to calm down!” she protested, “I want to test the curse and to find the cure myself! Besides, I’ve been hit with Cruciatus before and as you may see I am alive and well”

Snape muttered something darkly and adamantly told her to stop moving. While he was fixing her cursed leg with some kind of herbal ointment, she was bombarding him with questions until he gave up.

“This thing that senile Weasley hit you with is a variation of an Unforgivable invented by Lord himself, the curse is located in one or another part of the victim body and if not to take measures within an hour, you might lose your leg. Do you still cherish it?”

“What?!” Hermione shrieked trying to sit up but Snape kept her lying.

“Are you trying to tell me that the Weasleys are not senile?”

“Well, I don’t know what to think anymore… How could have he done this to me when he perfectly knew about my previous encounters with this particular curse” Hermione muttered unbelievingly.

“What do you mean?” in no-nonsense voice Snape asked.

So, she told him everything: about her torturing in Malfoy Manor, about their infamous Horcrux hunting, about her parents’ memory loss, and about her general misfortunes. He listened very carefully and when she summarized her life in the last three years, he exploded.

“Misfortunate adventure? You’ve been jumping out of the frying pan into the fire and call this a bloody “adventure? Are you out of your mind?”

“Who’s cursing now?” she smiled in reply “Besides, we fought our own war, it’s no wonder we didn't come out of it untouched”

“Unbelievable Gryffindor bravery, stupid as ever! You were children, all of you; you shouldn’t have fought that damn war! If not for Dumbledore’s eternal machinations, my dutiful part in them, you would have never faced curses, loses and broken youth!”

He kept talking; she listened, admiring his deep intonations and this unexpected remorse.

“But you hated teaching!”

“I didn’t. I hated stupid students who cherished their Saint Headmaster without following the voice of their hearts, and no matter my attitude, protecting all of you was my responsibility!”

“Could you, please, read to me?” she asked suddenly, he blinked staring back.

“Pardon me?”

“Could you read to me while I’m recovering from the curse?”

So he read till she fell asleep on his couch, it was raining silently and he might have called himself truly happy that autumn night back in his past. And now he demanded to know:

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I don’t know” she shrugged, “I should be mourning my husband now like a good widow I would never be, but instead I finished my Curse-breaker training and came to see you”

“You have always been an extraordinary student, Hermione” he muttered.

“Only a student?”

He left her question unanswered and in a few minutes she asked:

“Will you read to me?”


	3. Chapter 3

A dense October fog was covering Irish hills and falling on the shore like some transparent foreign blanket. The wind was blowing, the haze was as thick as pea soup and it seemed one could touch it with one’s fingers.

Snape was fond of severe Irish weather; it was the main reason why he chose Ireland for living after having retired from Hogwarts – isolation, seashore and harsh climate. It seemed to rain here the better part of the year but when autumn came, everything transformed beautifully.

The leaves became this subtle shade of amber, the grass turned emerald-green, the fog was descending from the hills and into the fields full of pumpkins and withered heather, and the sea was restless with upcoming storms.

There was a lighthouse not far from Snape’s home and he often went there for a walk, wondering that if he ever could choose, he would become a lighthouse-keeper, but now everything was automated and all the romantics was lost forever.

Anyway, he always found solace among the sea – and nature’s fury when the human being appeared to be highly vulnerable and surprisingly free from every possible burden.

Salty and cool water mist was coming from the sea, and he breathed deeply enjoying his evening walk. The weather forecast predicted storm but his house was warm and secure, so Snape was looking forward to nature’s rampage.

Today was Autumn Solstice and an almost unnoticed ray of hope was shining in his soul. “She might come. She might come tonight”, he whispered almost like a mantra on his way home.

At home, Snape put the steak into the oven, lit an old oil lamp in case of power outage and begin waiting without knowing what he was possibly expecting to.

Right at seven o’clock in the evening she knocked on his door and smiled sheepishly.

“Do you mind my coming?”

“You’ve already come” he answered stepping back and letting her in. She let out a little smile and gave him a bottle of Sauvignon.

“Well, hello to you too”

“Come in, let’s close the door, the storm is coming” Snape muttered hesitatingly. They had been friends for seven years but still, he hadn’t learned how to react properly in Hermione’s presence.

“That’s why I came to see you. I missed severe Irish weather; I missed your lighthouse and your home, besides, and today is autumn solstice, my first anniversary of being a curse-breaker and… a year since Ron’s death. I didn’t want to be alone”

“You did the right thing coming; besides, today is the night to remember”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an ancient ritual once very popular amongst purebloods but forgotten over time. During autumn solstice night all family gathered together outside the house, made a fire, burned magical herbs and told about their dead ones and their own sins. It was the night to remember and to forgive. My mother made me familiar with that ritual and sometimes I burned the herbs myself…”

After these words they settled at the small wooden table and silence appeared between them.

“How are you coping?” Snape finally managed to ask. She shivered and dropped her fork.

“I am completely lost. I try to load myself with work; I jump to the most dangerous curse-breaking projects rather than get back to London and face them all. Harry remained on my side but Ginny proclaimed me her nemesis. Mrs. Weasley is still her motherly self but I cannot stand the ice in her eyes anymore. They think it’s my fault, Severus, and it doesn’t matter to them that Ron didn’t care either about our marriage or about his own health! I feel numb… I don’t belong to their world; I don’t want to go back to Muggles so I became a curse-breaker instead.”

“It would do you no good, Hermione; it’s too dark and dangerous”

“I am good friends with danger and darkness, so I don’t care anymore, I just want to find my own place and I want to be free from debts to anyone. There is another epidemic in Petra, so I will probably be moving to Jordan for an unknown amount of time, I’ve come to see you before I leave”

“You don't know what you are getting into, Hermione, Pagan magic is far more unpredictable than we are able to imagine, ancient powers have their own rules, no one can predict what could happen to you”

“I’m touched by your worrying, Severus, really, but I am a big girl, I can manage it myself”

“I’m not telling you that you can’t, I am trying to warn you here. After Lord’s return, I rushed into things like I was suicidal. I wasn’t trying to justify my sins, I tried to forget myself in all that useless and miserable life, so I know what I’m telling you about. You don’t need to lose yourself in battles with the darkness, all you need to find solace is to forgive yourself. Do you understand, Hermione?”

At first, she was silent but after some minutes she asked:

“Will we burn those herbs tonight?”

So, they did.

They sat by the fireplace, admiring the dancing of the flames, they drank wine and burned herbs to drive the darkness away. Snape was telling her ancient tales and she listened, always eager to learn something new.

Snape marveled the shadow-play on her hair and amber-like flashes of light in her eyes. She didn’t know how beautiful she was to him, but he wasn’t sure how to tell her about it.

She fell asleep on his lap and gave him a hesitant goodnight kiss before that. She was a bit drunk, lost and lonely and so was he, both unsure what to do next.

In the morning Hermione asked him to take care of her cat and to wait for her return.

He crushed a handful of fallen leaves and watched her leave in the thick foggy sunrise.

He would be missing her, he already did.


	4. Chapter 4

The year has passed; summer was followed by autumn and cold November nights dissolved themselves in frosty winter mornings. She never appeared on his doorstep again. Once in three months, her weary barn owl reached him, carrying a short and faded letter wrapped around her leg. Those letters were laconic and always lacked information as if she was afraid that someone could intercept them.

He craved for them, no matter what.

She wrote a couple of lines about her adventures in Petra, explained that the inhabitants suffered from some variation of Dragon Pox, nothing serious and nothing linked to Dark Marks. She asked him to say hello to her cat and disappeared for three months again.

After that there was another letter, she told him that she was going to India in search of an ancient Pagan artifact, and mentioned that she wasn’t feeling well. She attributed everything to the climate and her endless Portkeys and jetlags. He frowned at those lines and scribed her back; scolding that he didn’t like what she was getting herself into, no matter what she tried to prove. And to whom.

Winter came; he was celebrating Winter Solstice sitting by the fire where pine logs were burning, a glass of whiskey in his fingers and her ginger cat snoring not far from him. Of course, he never expected her to leave everything behind and came to keep him company at this frozen night in the middle of winter, but the time had passed and there had not been any letters from her.

He missed company. He missed her.

He did not know he was capable of such feelings but truth be told: now he was facing the consequences.

Severus spent the last six months trying to catch at least a tiny glimpse of her. She seemed to disappear into the blue leaving no traces of herself, so Snape packed her cat into his cat cage and left for Jordan. Archeological camp showed little results of possible former activities, old Pagan Temple greeted him with the ancient writing similar to cuneiform but the curse guarding those antique walls held was broken and unharmed. So, he marveled this breath of olden for a couple of days and went to Egypt.

The expedition stationed in Egypt was familiar with Dr. Granger and her research in the field of Dark Arts. They enlightened Snape about her invaluable help in archeological excavating the temple of Anubis and deciphering old hieroglyphs but no one knew anything about her whereabouts.

So he headed to India and that’s where some nasty magic caught him. The news about Dr. Granger’s expedition concerning the Temple of Kali reached Snape’s ears and he rushed to Dakshineswar. Standing inside the temple, he was of thinking of Hindu beliefs and the goddess herself. The name Kali meant “force of time”. When there were neither the creation, nor the sun, the moon, the planets, and the earth, there was only darkness and everything was created from the darkness. The Dark appearance of Kali represented the darkness from which everything was born. Her complexion was black, which was blacker than the darkest night ever. As she was also the goddess of Preservation, Kali was worshiped as the preserver of nature. The figure of Kali conveyed death, destruction, and the consuming aspects of reality. As such, she was also a "forbidden thing", or even death itself. He also vaguely remembered that Kali was popularly worshipped in Bengal as a goddess protecting against epidemics and drought. With those thoughts, he decided to get going to Bengal but sudden misadventure caught him in the middle.

Maybe it was the endless black dust that covered every possible surface around the temple or the remnants of ancient magic, but the fact remained: something very dark and nasty hit his Dark Mark and withdrew him from his further journey in search for Dr. Granger.

Snape did not have either time or desire to deal with the consequences of that particular curse but his health proved him wrong and forced to come back to Ireland. At first, there were insomnia and a slight limb tremor, later he started experiencing convulsions and asthmatic attacks but he paid them no attention. Until a very angry and a very disappointed Lucius Malfoy appeared on his doorstep.

“So, what do you think you are doing with your life?” Lucius asked while helping himself a glass of fine Ogden from Snape’s spirit supply.

“Why wouldn’t you see yourself off while I’m dying here?” Snape responded in his usual snarky manner.

“Maybe, perhaps, I still cherish you, my stupid and kind of useless friend, and besides, she wouldn’t appreciate your sudden demise” Lucius drawled smugly.

Snape glared at him but stood up slowly and walked near the fire.

“Who’s “she”? Severus asked crossly.

“Oh, why, Severus? Some certain Dr. Granger that you spent the better half of the year looking for! Will you stay here and simply die when she is Merlin knows where?” Lucius asked silkily.

“What do you want?” Snape finally snapped forgetting about his injuries.

“I want to help you and as long as you keep refusing my help, I think, I just might mix some Felix Felicis with Mandrake root, made you drink it and see what happens”

“You are insane”

“Aren’t we all, my dear friend? Besides, I still owe you for saving my Draco, so you’d better cooperate”

“How?”

“There is a potion, you know, it’s called “A Petal of Light” it might help us to reduce the harm caused on your Dark Mark”

“I’m not sure, Lucius, maybe it’s exactly the Mark that took all the harm and saved me from dying. You know, darkness reacted with darkness and neutralize one another”

“Perhaps, but the potion is still worth trying”

“All right, but where do we get the unicorn blood from?”

“Ah, Severus, you underestimate your oldest friend here!” Lucius smiled fishing the small vial out of his pocket.

“Maybe just the opposite, Lucius: I overestimate you”

“You are still my friend and I learned to pay no attention to your sneer long ago, now back to business”

The potion was highly illegal but awfully useful at the same time, besides, it did not require killing the unicorn in order to get its blood, and just a small sample was enough. So, mixed with Mandrake root and Moonstone dust, it reduced every possible harm gained from the dark curse.

They brewed the potion together and it saved Severus as was promised. Lucius left to take care of his son and of his endless collection of Muggle t-shirts – his well-hidden guilty pleasure. Severus was left alone, observing like August amber-like stars were going to dissolve into grayish September nights and thinking of her.

He lost every trace but it didn’t save him from worrying. He had Malfoy as a friend and he saved his life, he had that potion while she could be suffering somewhere, left without any help, any potion and any friend.

He decided to keep searching when August last whisper disappeared in cold autumn sunrise.


	5. Chapter 5

His house grew empty as November nights grew colder and darker. Three years passed and still there had not been any sign or glimpse of her. He searched every corner he could find, he found and threatened each of her accidental acquaintances, he traced every spark of magic that reminded him of her and still, his search appeared to be in vain.

There had not been any trail of Hermione in these long and hollow three years but nonetheless, he believed that somehow she was alive. Some unfamiliar feeling in his stomach was nagging him, whispering that if something happened to Hermione, he could be able to sense it.

So, his years were passing by, dragging days slowly and painfully, and he lived almost absentmindedly as if knowing that his life was far from being over yet. The first year without her passed as if some solar eclipse stretched over twelve months. He slept, woke up, ate some toast with orange jam she always was fond of and went to work in his herbal garden. Planting and taking care of herbs help him stay distracted for a couple of hours. After that, he went for a walk near that lighthouse that used to give her melancholic thoughts every time she came to visit. And when October came, Severus took his magical herbs, lit a campfire near the seaside and remembered each and every glimpse of her that now was engraved in his heart.

After all, she was his second true friend after Lucius and the only one who never judged his trespasses. So, he remembered. True, at first she drove him crazy with her endless questions about this and that and her never stopping enthusiasm, but, probably, thanks to her interest in his life and concerns about his whereabouts, he was able to continue his Potions practices, his academic research and simply his life. He was waiting for her short visits like children wait for Christmas to come or for a school year to finish.

She was his friend and, he was afraid to admit it to himself, she started to mean something more to him.

All these years ago, she just appeared at his doorstep, crying about her parents and her unfortunate life, it was raining and October night was definitely cold to spend it in the open-air, so he grumbled something about unbearable Gryffindors and dragged her inside. She beamed at the fireplace and grabbed some baked apples without asking for permission. That’s how their friendship started.

Hermione showed up out of the thin air once in three months, updated him with the necessary or completely useless to his point news, stole his faded Muggle t-shirt and stayed by the fireplace till the dawn broke. He just listened, having grown unaccustomed to communication, but it seemed enough for her. After all, the whole lot of her dunderheaded friends paid little attention to her interests, so she chose him instead.

He had to admit to himself, he enjoyed their conversations when she managed to engage him in one or another rather tempting topic to discuss. Once, when their discussion turned into arguing about moral sides of life, she suddenly grabbed his hand in hers and whispered almost inaudibly: “I don’t care about your sins, Severus, like you don’t care about mine. You are my friend and I’ll forever stay by your side”, she didn’t let him answer in his usual snarky manner, she pressed her index finger to his lips and simply smiled at him.

He missed her like crazy.

That day in November, he found a five-leaf clover blooming in his herbal garden. Caressing delicate petals he almost broke down from the aching memory of her planting this clover. Naïve Muggle-girl always believing in fairy-tales she was. The heroine of the War. Bright and insufferable know-it-all. His only friend.

On his way home, he spotted her faded copy of _Advanced Potion making_ she forgot a long time ago in one of his drawers. He flipped through the pages, remembering her insecure questions and daring comments about brewing and then a folded paper fell into his lap. _“Remember me when a five-leaf clover blooms – H.G” _

He sank to his knees clutching her book to his chest.

That was how Lucius Malfoy found him several hours later, sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the burning embers. He was the only one confined in Severus’ complicated relations with Hermione that’s why he didn’t need unnecessary explanations.

“If you are going to ruin your life pinning about a Muggle-born woman again, you could have at least warned your friend, I would bring you Firewhiskey and company”

“I don’t need your company, Malfoy, be so kind and sod off”

“I always cherished your perfect manners, my friend, no need to ruin the impression now”, Lucius smiled and offered his hand to help Severus up. One brief glance at the folded note and that damn clover growing on every spot in herbal garden explained Lucius the matter of his friend’s distress.

“I cannot imagine, Severus, that you of all people would descend to believe in stupid Muggle folklore and faded notes”

“Your concerns are of no interest for me, Lucius, it is just that…” Severus began in his usual unfriendly manner but his voice quivered in the middle of the sentence.

“I know, believe me, I know, I would turn this world upside down to find Narcissa but you’ve already been to almost every forgotten corner of Magical communities and Muggle districts and there was no glimpse of her. What if she is…?”

“No “what ifs” here, Lucius! She is alive. Full stop. I would have sensed if something!”

“Let it be, but you are wasting your life while she might be somewhere, you know…”

_Without remembering you_ – hang in the air between them, but Severus habitually refused to believe Malfoy’s logic, so, he slammed the door and went in search for a drink and a bar instead.

He found the building in question on the far end of his village. Faded wooden house with a lopsided sign stating: “Five leaf Clover”, Severus shuddered at a coincidence and walked inside.

He ordered his usual half-bottle of whiskey and almost decided to sit down at the counter when he noticed a woman sitting near the forever burning fireplace. She was wearing faded grey jeans, a black T-shirt and a yellow knitted cardigan. There was a ring with withered heather flower inside the stone, Severus froze at this, and in a flash of memory, he recalled his Christmas present for Hermione. He barely recognized her – nothing reminded him of the woman he once knew: everything from her Muggle clothing to asymmetrical pixy haircut was far from bright witch he yearned all these years for.

Severus froze in his tracks, deciding what he wanted more: kiss her senseless or yell at her in front of all the people. He walked closer instead. She was a hollow shell of a once remarkable woman but still, she was beautiful to him.

“I assume, he is happy, isn’t he?” Severus drawled.

“Who is “he”?” she whispered almost inaudibly.

“The one you’ve been waiting on” Severus responded.

She turned around abruptly, stiffed a sob and threw herself at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry, Severus, please, forgive me. Take me home, please.”

She kept sobbing and whispering quiet words but he didn’t care about words: she was alive. He always knew that she couldn’t die. Never that simple for a woman like her.

She was alive.


	6. Chapter 6

Her teeth kept clattering upon his white porcelain tea cup faded with time and lack of care. She was struggling to sit upright and to look her friend in the eyes. The ugly feeling of shame rose inside her and her cheeks were burning now. Her hands were shaking, but Severus still thought her extremely beautiful. He didn’t comment on her appearance; he just kept watching her thoughtfully, as if trying to restore every single glimpse of her back to his memory.

“Why don’t you ask me?”

“Ask you what, Hermione?” he raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Where the Hell have I been all these years, for example?”

“I assume you need to finish your tea at first and do something with your limbs trembling” Severus answered carefully, though even a single glance at her told him that she’d been suffering from some kind of a dark curse he once was perfectly familiar with.

“Manners never die, do they?” she managed to smile, he just nodded.

“I suppose, they do not”

“I caught the nasty variation of Cruciatus similar to the one Bill hit me with during my studies of curse-breaking practice. I found an artifact in Indian Temple of Kali three years ago. My whole team had fallen ill with a disease similar to plague and while I was trying to help them and save the artifact, dark version of Cruciatus hit me. It seems Kali was never fond of Muggle-borns herself. The rescue team from Saudi Arabia found me nearly dead in one of the tents near Delhi. I lost everything, Severus, and I nearly lost my life. I was lying in Wizarding hospital in Riyadh and felt as darkness was pushing through my veins. You know what was funny? I was working in India in order to find the remedy that would help you remove your Dark Mark and get rid of the remnants of darkness. I ended up dying instead”

“I was looking for you in India” Snape confessed, “In fact, I searched every corner of the world and questioned everyone who might be familiar with your whereabouts but I never found you. I was to Kali Temple and was hit with that version of Wizarding plague myself. The last thing I remember was that I covered my face with my left arm and the curse hit right into the place of my Dark Mark. The darkness interlaced with the darkness and it was to die instantly or to die painfully. Lucius found me eventually and beat some sense in me, he saved my life and I began looking for you again, you insufferable woman”

“I imagined you to yell at me, to shake me and to sneer, but I couldn’t even hope that I would make out of there alive. I lost counts to days and all my time there turned into a one endless night. You know, they were keeping me in an impenetrable tent in order to keep safe from possible foreign magic. I listened to Muslim prayers and kept wishing to catch a little glimpse of stars, I always wanted to see the starry sky upon the dessert. Foolish Muggle girl, as you would say”

“When did they release you?”

Hermione tensed and looked down immediately, her fingers clutching the mug turned white.

“A year and a half ago”

“Where have you been?”

“Working as a librarian in the Ministry library”

“Hermione?”

“You are free to yell at me, you are even free to throw me away and cut me out of your life completely, I understand, Severus, I will understand”

“Have you found someone?”

Instead of answering his question, she threw her hand forward and yelled: “Accio teapot”

The teapot in question twitched, rose to mere two inches, flew above the table but fell down at the end. Hermione winced and hang her head down.

“I am mostly a Squib now, Severus, they told me that it would be the aftermath of the curse. I almost lost my magic after they released me from the hospital and the act of power you saw a second ago is the most I could muster after all these years”

“Hermione, why hadn’t you come to me?”

“Why would you want some freak without magic like me?” she whispered brokenly. He rose from his seat.

“How could you think so little of me? I don’t care about your magic or your career, we’ll manage it at the end and even if we don’t, we can always be light-house keepers like you always dreamed about”

She started crying in response. He hesitated for a second and then took her into his arms, whispering soothing nonsense into her hair. He never was a consoling type but she didn’t seem to care.


	7. Chapter 7

He held her close until her sobs stilled and she shifted slightly against his chest, now soaked with her tears. He hesitated whether to hug her tightly or to let her go but she didn’t seem to mind his embrace at all. A million thoughts kept whirling in his mind. Her miraculous return, her infernal disease, her loss of magic. How could she think of him so little that he would throw her away because of her magical abilities? Foolish girl, he thought in a rush of a sudden affection and kissed the crown of her head. She lifted her chin up to look at him.

“I missed you so much. You cannot even imagine how I missed you!”

He tried to smile in reply, reaching his fingers to wipe a stray tear away. She turned her head slightly and her lips touched his palm. He froze, not sure how to react. They were many things: colleagues, acquaintances, friends but what they were going to be, if ever?

“Hermione, are you sure?”

He gave her that last-minute decision after which everything wouldn’t matter. She caught his eyes and looked at him seriously before catching his lips with hers.

“Severus, you know what I regret most when I thought that I was to die in that tent in the desert? I didn’t regret about my parents or about my unfortunate marriage with Ron, I didn’t regret about my career or the world I never managed to change, I regretted about you, about leaving you in some lonely village in Ireland, about not sharing burned herbs with you, about never seeing clover in bloom, about never crunching leaves of October in my palm. Consider me naïve and stupid, you have every right to, but I’ve nowhere else to go. I said goodbye to my life long time ago, Muggle world wouldn’t accept me, I am too different for its liking, and Wizarding world is just not enough, especially with my…abilities”, she almost choked at these last words and he pulled her closer.

“Hermione, I don’t care about your magic, with or without it is still you, the one I’ve been waiting on for all these years, but how could you want someone like me? I don’t have much to offer you, except, perhaps, my herbs garden, this home, and the old light-house”

“Ask me to stay…Even if it is just for a short time…” she whispered in response and he pulled her onto his lap, almost crushing his lips onto her mouth.

Her fingers trembled when she reached them to tangle into his hair, his breath caught in his throat when her lips traced his earlobe. It’s been so long ago, so damn long ago, he might have even forgotten how to act properly. She didn’t seem to care. Her hands found a way under his faded shirt she once presented him for Christmas, and the jolt of light struck him as her palms, cold and hesitant, began tracing the lines of his scars on his back.

He knew she didn’t care about his appearance or battle-scars, or traces of shame won from the Dark Lord and his sadistic fantasies. She might be the only woman who wouldn’t care. And she was his.

With shaking fingers he unzipped her Muggle jeans while tracing her collarbone with featherlike kisses. She moaned when his hands traced her hips, finally founding what he’d been looking for. His need was aching at the apex of her thigh and she could hardly think. It was a bittersweet sensation, longing for their lost life, for the magic forever gone, for the unknown future covered in fog, for the leaves of October he tasted bitterly on her lips. He was hers. Touching, kissing, gliding, slipping, caressing, probing, tasting, guiding her to the unknown; and she followed.

Severus’ fingers, long and calloused, slid into her and her breath hitched at exquisite sensation she’d been longing for. 

“Here and now” he whispered into her neck and she closed her eyes, his voice dark and deep with lust and it sent her shivers. She ground her hips against him.

They were still half-clothed but neither seemed to care. Her hands roaming on his back, his hips thrusting into her, finding the right temp, adjusting, tasting, feeling, exploring. Slowly and hesitantly at first and passionately and devotionally with each new passing second, they discovered each other.

“Severus” she moaned. The golden light of setting sun was playing against her skin. The world around him exploded.

When her aftershock trembling ceased, she reached her fingers and tangled them into his hair.

“Stay forever”, he whispered cupping her cheek and wiping her tears away.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Always”.

She smiled at his response and waved her fingers. The fire in the fireplace lighted up to life following her magic. Severus pulled her closer.

“We’ll make it through, I promise, we’ll get your magic back”

And the leaves of October fell silently at their doorstep. The dawn of a new life began.

The End.


End file.
